Dear Mr. Bay, What Planet are You From?

Dear Mr. Bay,

I have been waiting for a kick-ass Transformers movie to come out since I was a little kid. I love the Autobots. At one point, I even had plans to marry Optimus Prime, except that he died during one of the Transformers episodes before I had the chance to tell him of my love. When I turned five, I had a Transformers birthday cake. Sometimes I would pretend that my Malibu Barbie was an evil meter-maid, and when she tried to give my Hasbro cars a parking ticket, the cars would instantly transform into Autobots and whoop her ass for trying to give them tickets while they were busy saving the world. When it comes to Transformers, I am an easy, pathetic, nostalgic, money-spending target.

Unfortunately, to my dismay, your Transformers film sucked. It has already made a ton of money, so I don’t feel bad telling you that it was truly painful to watch. I would have left early except I was in the middle of the movie theater row, and all the people to my left and right had fallen asleep by the two hour mark of the movie and were too sprawled over the aisle for me to escape.

First of all, your film was blatantly discriminatory. That soldiers “don’t speak Spanish” crap was totally unnecessary, tacky, and added absolutely nothing to the film. Was there some sort of implied anti-immigrant message there? And what was up with that “shut up before I beat you mammy” junk? Hello? What were you thinking? Transformers is nostalgic, but not that nostalgic. Dressing up an African-American woman in a handkerchief and calling her “mammy” has been a racist no-no for a long time now. It is totally offensive to utilize "happy-slave" stereotypes for your petty attempt at comic relief.

Not only was your film racist, but it was totally sexist. Obviously Transformers has a male target audience. But frankly, robotic aliens from another planet that are loaded with weapons that can transform into cars at will is enough to attract both little and big boys alike, not to mention girls like me. The addition of the gorgeous, shallow, mechanically skilled, motor-cycle riding parolee ideal girlfriend didn’t make your film any better. The hour that it took you to explain why she was there was a waste of time. All your audience wanted was to see an awesome cartoon come to life on a big screen for about an hour. By the time I got through all of the predictable fluff of the parents and jocks are bad, but sex and cars are good paradigm, I was half-asleep and could barely appreciate the cool aspects of your Transformers.

Additionally, your attempt to show your audience that the United States is putting its soldiers through hell and that George W. Bush is a presidential joke, was half-assed, and therefore, a waste of even more time. I mean really, if you are going to say it, just say it. It needs to be said.

In closing: Michael Bay, I am so disappointed in you. You should be ashamed of yourself. (That’s what my mom used to say to me to make me feel really guilty back in the 80s when I did something really messed-up and uncalled for when she expected better of me.)

Sincerely,
Mialka

Photo by Simon Davison via Flickr.